Deed
by DuchessRaven
Summary: Crossover bt Petshop of Horrors manga and Hellsing. An alternate meeting bt Integra and Alucard. Young and distressed by the illness of her father, Integra happens upon a strange dog in a Chinatown petstore... COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

AUTHRO'S NOTE: I don't own Hellsing, or Petshop of Horrors. I just really like both. This story was originally the idea of my fiancé, but I think I did it justice. R&R plz!

Ch. 1 The Meeting

Her?

No, of course I do not question you. Your intuition is far above mine, and as far as the future goes, he who has lived longest is often best at its prediction. Your life is longer than my entire bloodline. I trust your judgment.

Yes, I do see the spirit in her eyes. But all humans have spirit. It is easily turned noble, or evil, or light, or dark. But I reckon that you would prefer the darkness.

Do you believe in fate? Or perhaps that does not matter? No, I suppose when one has as much experience as you, fate does not matter. The bonds of destiny will work themselves out.

You have that much faith in her? I understand. It will be arranged. I will arrange it. The master and the servant will be united as one. But beware, my friend, of the choices you make. Humans are not like you and I, no matter how strong they appear to be.

I see.

Very well.

Thy will be done, Vlad the Impaler.

break-

There are few places on earth quite as dreary as the secluded allies of London on a stormy day.

Cursing himself for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a good cloak, the elderly gentleman removed his jacket and used it to shield his ward, a thin, blond child of little more than twelve, from the rain. Shivering in the cold, she muttered a quiet "thank you" and pulled it tight around herself, eyes downcast as they had been during the entire outing. He had hoped that she would brighten up from been outside, at least slightly, but soon realized that even had the weather not turned ugly, his efforts would have been wasted.

Tightening his black ponytail behind him to keep the hair from blocking his vision, the man took the girl's hand in his gloved one.

"Come, let's get out of this rain," he said, frowning slightly.

The girl gazed up at him, watery blue eyes quivering behind large, round spectacles. "Can we go home?"

"We won't make it when the rain starts," he told her gently. "Let's find some place to wait it out."

Her eyes dropped again and he sighed. Gripping her hand tightly, he pulled the girl across the street, giving his best attempt to keep her from been splashed by the passing cars. Thunder rolled over them like a thousand-horse carriage.

A roll of small shops stood in the gray shadows, looking desolate and lost, their colors washed away by time and hardships. Normally they would have stood open to welcome whatever customer there was, but been Sunday evening, most of them were closed. After several long minutes of searching and getting increasingly wet in the process, the only place that had yet to close was a small pastry shop, and that was where they settled.

Once inside, the girl found herself a wall to lean against and silently watched the rain through the shop's glass doors. The shop was poorly kept, with peeling walls and flickering lights, but at least it was clean and neat. The warm scent of fresh bread wafted through the air. The man took a deep breath, savoring it gratefully, but his companion paid no notice to it.

Only one other customer was in the shop, a woman in a long-sleeved Asian style gown that bore a meticulously stitched yellow dragon. Standing at the counter, she was tall and slim, with straight jet-black hair that hung the entire length of her face, ending just below her chin. At her side laid a black silk umbrella. Noticing their presence, she half-turned and favored them the most charming smile.

He found himself smiling back. She was very pretty.

Like her clothing, she was Asian, and somewhat out of place in this part of London. It wasn't so much her ethnicity, but her conduct. Every movement she made was perfectly graceful, from her manicured nails to her elegant stance.

It was almost… mesmerizing.

He watched her make her selections while his ward watched the rain beat down against the window.

"Three cream tarts please," she said to the man behind the counter, her voice had a strange weight to it, soothing but hard to read.

"Sure thing, Count," the man said cheerily. "How's everything at the shop?"

Count?

She sighed. "Oh, it's the same. Magdaria had her second litter. The poor little dears are running me ragged."

The man took her money and made the change. "I donno how you do it, D. Without help and all. Lord knows this place keeps me busy enough."

"The animals help themselves, Hendrik. Better than people can often manage."

And with that, she picked up her umbrella and glided across the room as if walking on water, the pastries dangling in a bag from two slender fingers. The man behind the counter turned his attention to the other customers.

"Excuse me, sir? Miss? We're closing."

Well isn't that just the luck? He thought in frustration, eyeing the rain again. "Can we just wait out the rain?"

Hendrik hesitated, but shook his head. "Sorry, sir. The shop needs to be closed by a certain hour on Sundays. Don't want trouble with the Church."

Rubbing his eyes, the man strained his brain to think of a place, any place, that would be willing to risk the wrath of the Church as this hour. Suddenly, he realized someone was watching. The pretty woman had stopped in front of them, and was stooping to the level of his ward.

"Hello, sweetheart," she said, once again in that unreadable voice. "What's your name?"

Sensing the girl's hesitation, he nudged her shoulder gently.

"Integra," she said, barely audible, then added, "sir.

He opened his mouth to correct her. And froze. Again studying the woman's features, he suddenly realized his mistake—the weight in her voice, the subtleties of her features.

A man!

And if the man had noticed his shock, he pretended not to. "That's a pretty name," he said. "Do you like animals, Integra?"

Intergra nodded, keeping both eyes on the stranger.

"Well, my pet shop if right around the corner. If it's alright with your dad, maybe you'd both like to come have a cup of tea with me while the rain lets up. I have lots of animals you can play with."

"Oh, uh…"

"I'm not her father," the man cut in. "I'm just the butler, taking the little miss out for a walk." He offered his hand. "Walter."

The other smiled and bowed politely. "Forgive me if I do not shake hands. It's nothing personal."

Walter withdrew his hand. "Of course," he replied, matching the smile. "But I don't believe I caught your name."

"I am Count D." He handed the bag of pastries to Integra and opened the umbrella over her head as they stepped outside. "Come, I do believe you will like my shop."

break-

Whatever Walter had expected, the pet shop was not it.

Despite looking like every other slightly-rundown corner store on the outside, the interior was enormous, and covered with lavish decorations that he could not possibly imagine a man running a pet shop getting his hands on.

The sweet scent of incense greeted them at the door. Every wall was covered with silk, elegant draperies hung from the ceiling, and luxurious carpets lined the floor. All the colors were astoundingly vibrant yet soothing at the same time. Sturdy, exotic furniture that would have looked out of place anywhere else in this part of the city stood erect and proud.

But what caught his attention most were the animals.

They were everywhere. With the exception of a few birds (actually, he wasn't even certain that some of them were birds), animals of every shape, color, and species roamed freely. Dogs and cats of every breed plus a few strolled about casually, or curled up and slept in groups alongside enormous lizards and oddly colored creatures that he assumed were ferrets. A monkey was helping itself from a bowl of fruit with human-like delicacy, and occasionally offered pieces to two turtles that rested in a glass tank beside it.

Feeling that he was been watched, Walter cast his gaze at a dark corner beneath an oak dining table, where a creature with the pointy snout of a fox and nine tails too many emerged slowly into the light. He could have sworn it winked at him before dashing off.

At least half of the creatures he could not name as they strutted across his path, carrying with them an air of pride and dignity, as if he was merely a passerby on their territory. A few reptiles approached him and cast suspicious glares before Count D. gestured for them to move on. They obeyed him completely, although it was impossible to comprehend one hand training so many animals, and so well.

That was when he also realized that none of the animals were fighting, or even giving off any sign that they were annoyed at having to share space with members of species. In spite of their presence, the shop was as serene and peaceful as they came.

The man who called himself Count D led them to a large, heavily cushioned couch and, with the smile that never seemed to leave his face, instructed them to sit while he prepared tea. Integra, overwhelmed by been near so many animals, brightened up considerably. She ate a cream tart and drank two cups of tea and went about petting each animal, particularly the ones that likely did not exist outside of this strange shop.

Walter, having leaned against a long, slippery cushion when first settling down on the couch, was slightly less at ease after discovering it to be a gigantic python. But he accepted the warm cup D offered him and felt his spirits raise as he watched Integra play.

Count D, after setting a plate of various sweets on the table before them, sat down on the couch across from him.

"Is my shop to your liking, sir?"

"Please call me Walter." Stirring his tea, Walter once again admired the beauty of the shop. "Your shop is beautiful. Though I could not possibly have guessed such a place existed in this part of London."

"Call it the hidden mysteries of China Town."

Walter frowned slightly. "China Town? I was not aware that there was a China Town in this area."

"It's very small, really," Count D replied. "To be perfectly honest, I think it only contains this shop and maybe three or five others around the corner. But it's just fine that way. We are able to maintain a certain degree of privacy and mystique."

"The animals…" Walter raised the cup to his lips and sipped, then nearly dropped it as he began to cough.

D watched, as if amused. "My apologies," he said after Walter finally recomposed himself. "I often forget that my taste in tea is a bit… extreme."

"Good Lord…" Walter gasped, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "How much sugar is in this?"

"It may be better that you do not know," D said with a good-natured grin and nudged the plate of cakes and sweets toward him. "Here, try these."

Still wondering whether the coat of sugar now inside his mouth was sinking into permanence, Walter waved them away politely. He cast another glance at Integra, who was now standing, hands linked behind her back, rocking dreamily to the songs of a bright blue canary.

"As I was saying. These are amazing animals. Half of these I've never even heard of before, let alone seen."

"If you have not seen them before," D said serenely, "it is only because they choose not to be seen."

It occurred to him briefly that such a comment was odd, but somehow, he felt too much at ease at the moment to pursue it. Instead, he said, "they're also very well trained."

"Trained?" the other laughed softly. "None of these animals are trained, Walter."

Blinking, Walter thought this over, but before he could make anything of it, D had shifted his attention to his ward.

"Integra." The girl turned to Count D. "Do you like the animals?"

Thin pink lips curled and Walter gaped. It had been quite a long time since Miss Integra smiled like that.

"I do," she said. "They're very pretty."

With one delicate hand the Count pointed to a door that stood slightly ajar in the back of the shop. Walter had not noticed it before. It was well-hidden in the forest of silk and tapestry.

"If you want, you can go down that hall. There are even more animals there."

A silver of mischievousness seeped into his voice. "Maybe you can even find one to your liking."

Eyes sparkling, Integra turned to Walter, eagerness written all over her face. Eyeing the dark corridor, his first instinct was to talk her out of it, but there was something that held him back. Be it the comforting atmosphere or the sugar was finally getting to him, he found himself nodding an approval to her.

"Thank you," she said brightly. "I won't be long." With that, she dashed down the hall, and soon disappeared into the darkness.

"She's special, isn't she?"

Walter started a bit at the question. Count D was looking straight at him now, and something about the man's demeanor had changed. "She sure is."

"Not only as a person, I'm sure. Few little girls warrant this kind of protection."

"Protection?"

"You, Walter." The Count sipped his tea casually, black eyes never wavering. "What are those made of? Fine steel? Gold? No, gold wouldn't be strong enough."

"What are you talking about?"

"Those wires in your sleeve, my dear 'butler'." D set down his cup. "It's been a long time since I saw those, not to mention anyone who could use them.

Instinct told him to be alarmed, but Walter found that he could not obey it.

Sitting there, facing the strange oriental man in this mist of incense, he began to laugh. It felt almost satisfying.

"You got me," he said though chuckles. "I'm impressed. I haven't met anyone else who could spot me so fast."

D handed him another cup of tea. He couldn't recall seeing it being poured, but took it anyway. Less sugar this time. Not bad.

"I trust you've heard of the Hellsing family?"

D nodded. "Of course. Though they tend to keep a certain amount of anonymity, word does get around."

Walter nodded toward the door in the back of the shop. "That is Integra Wingates Hellsing, the only daughter of the Master of the Hellsing estate, and the only heir."

"Such a big responsibility for such a small girl."

"She's actually a tough kid, that Integra." Feeling more relaxed by the minute, Walter poured himself some more tea. "I watched her grow up. Trust me, there's no one else more up for it than she."

Count D was watching him, and smiling.

"But she worries me sometimes though," Walter went on. "Hasn't smiled much since her father took ill. The poor man's on his death bed, got his brother taking care of things for him."

"The girl's uncle?"

"Scum of the earth," Walter muttered bitterly, drinking more tea. The room was very warm, and the rain outside pounded the windows rhythmically, like a gentle lullaby. He looked up, and there, standing right behind Count D, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Golden Egyptian robes hugged her luscious curves and the swells of perfectly formed breasts. Her skin was like a mixture of chocolate and honey, smooth and deliciously dark.

"You were saying, Walter?" D's voice sounded very distant as the woman leaned over the back of D's couch and batted her misty brown eyes. One of her smooth, dark curls fell in front of her face, dangling temptingly. D, however, was looking at him, completely unaware of the woman's presence, or merely choosing to ignore it.

Tearing his eyes away, Walter found himself at a loss for words. Searching quickly, he said the first thing that came to mind. "So, uh, Count, that's a French title."

The woman was staring at him fixatedly. Then, slowly, seductively, she crawled over the back of the sofa, and settled at D's feet, resting her head on his lap, but never shifting her intense gaze. He wondered briefly whether he should feel like a dirty old man.

"Yes, it is."

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, how did you come about it? You're obviously not French."

"Quite right."

The woman left D's side and crawled, on all fours, toward Walter, batting her gorgeous eyes all the while. Delicate hands landed on his leg, feeling them. She rubbed her cheek against his thigh and he felt the strangest sensation of comfort as the world began to swirl before his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was the sweet smell of incense and Count D saying, "in fact, I'm from a secluded region in China…"

break-

Integra wandered the long, quiet halls of the pet shop. Doors of every shape and size lined the walls on either side of her. Sometimes she would see a door where there was none before, and other times she would spot a door out of the corner of her eye, only to discover she was mistaken. The entire place was clean and immaculately decorated, but somehow gave the same feeling as a Hall of Mirrors.

How could one small shop house so many doors?

Several times she pushed open a door at random. Count D was right—each one contained exotic creatures, each rarer than the one before. At one point she opened to adjacent doors and found them both leading outside, but one led to a seaside while the other a steamy jungle. A young man and woman were swimming close to shore and waved at her. When they turned and disappeared under the waves she was certain she saw two large tail fins.

So many strange things.

But so intriguing was the world inside the pet shop.

Suddenly very excited, as if drawn by an invisible force, Integra picked up her pace and ran down the corridor, testing whichever door that caught her eye. A few of them wouldn't open, no matter how hard she pushed or kicked, so she left those alone after a while, running along quickly, past a hole in the wall.

She stopped in her track, blinked, and doubled back.

It definitely wasn't a hole, but it was black like one. As she studied, it began to quiver slightly, like thick smoke trapped in a bottle. Its edges seemed to undulate as if alive and waiting to be opened, this strange door.

She put her hand on it and immediately jerked it back. The door had swallowed it. But upon closer inspection she saw that it was not the case.

The door was covered in shadow, or what shadow would be if it ever took on a physical form. Tendrils of blackness drifted away as she batted at it, revealing a double-reinforced steel surface. It looked heavy.

Most little girls would leave alone a door like that. It looked like the place where all the monsters under your bed came from.

Suddenly wanting to make sure no one was looking, Integra's eyes darted about. Then, satisfied that she was alone, she stepped forward and gave the door a great push with both hands.

break-

Count D took Walter's cup from his hand and set it down on the table.

Carefully, he placed a soft pillow under the man's head. Walter stirred slightly, but was already too far lost in his slumber. D arranged his guest's arms to make sure he was comfortable. He also picked up the jacket the girl had left on the couch and draped it over him.

"Keep our guest company, Neferti," he said to the large gray cat, a rare breed of Egyptian Mao. It purred happily and kneaded Walter's pants before curling up on his stomach. "I will be back in a few minutes."

The cat yawned as her master disappeared into the hidden back door.

break-

Instead of opening to one side as a normal door would, the shadow-encrusted black door slide away at her touch, sinking into the room and disappearing in the darkness. No sign of light could be seen inside. It was as if someone had painted the heavy air with tar. A metallic smell filled her nostrils as Integra took a cautious step inside. The door had disappeared, a fact that would have unnerved her had she given it more thought. Instead, she allowed herself to be engulfed by the eerie darkness.

The only audible sound was the cloth of her knee-length skirt brushing against her legs as she moved. Her first thought was that an animal must live here. Logically, it would be nocturnal. But where was it?

Surveying the room, the heir of Hellsing swallowed thickly and tapped her left foot. Stone. The entire room was paved with cold, smooth stone, and from what she could see of the walls, they were no different. Every inch of the room was enclosed like a tomb, not allowing a single thread of light to seep through. Even the light in the hall seemed to stop abruptly at the entrance.

The room wasn't exceptionally large. Squinting hard, she thought she could see the opposite wall not far ahead. Cautiously, she placed both hands against the wall nearest to the door, reassured by its solidity, and began to walk along it, feeling her way. Oddly enough, the thought that something frightening might leap out in her path never occurred to her.

Halfway across the room, something hard made contact with her knee. Running one hand over it, she felt a smooth surface. Polished wood, perhaps. Keeping one hand on the wall, she felt along its edge and found that she could not reach its end. Suddenly overcome with curiosity, the rest of her body fell to the ground, to the level of this strange apparition, and began to explore it, measuring it.

It was about a foot high. Maybe seven feet long, or a little more. Hard to tell just from feeling. Carved patterns were arranged in several lines on one end of the lid. Perhaps words.

Lid?

With a gasp, Integra pulled back from the silent black coffin that seemed to grow larger in her eyes by the second.

A body… was there a body inside?

Slowly, inch by inch, she raised her eyes. And there, suspended in the never-ending shadows, two pinpoints of light hung above the coffin. Instinct told her to run but her body had completely lost all will as the two spots of light quivered slightly in the air. No, it wasn't quivering. They blinked.

A pair of blood-red eyes loomed over her and the metallic smell was getting stronger. Integra coughed but kept her own gaze centered on the eyes. They rose, and she could make out faintly, the outline of a silhouette.

A human?

"Integra."

She blinked. The eyes were gone.

"Integra?"

Soft yellow light flooded the room. She spun around. Though only having been in the room for a few minutes, the brightness of the candle in Count D's hand already felt foreign. Berating herself silently for been caught in this state, Integra got to her feet quickly and brushed off her skirt as Count D approached her.

"It seems you've found a friend," he said.

Something wet touched her hand, causing her to jump and nearly crash into Count D, who watched with gentle amusement on his face.

Standing behind her was the largest dog she had ever seen. Matted jet-black hair covered its entire body, right down to its enormous paws that were easily the size of the hooves of a pony. Pointy black ears turned in every direction, searching eagerly for any new source of sound as it blinked large red eyes at Integra. As she stood half in shock, it nudged her hand again with its nose, an offer of friendliness.

"Would you like to pet him?"

Surprising even herself, she nodded. As if having a will of its own, her hand raised and ran its fingers through the dog's hair. It had very strong haunches, the kind that could easily tear apart a deer or perhaps even a small bull without a second thought. Sitting there in front of her, they were almost the same height. In fact, compared to it, Integra was little more than a mouthful.

As she petted it, it opened its mouth and panted happily. She saw that it had at least three rows of teeth, each sharper than the next.

She looked into its eyes and thought it was smiling at her.

"Do you like him, Integra?" Count D's hand was on her shoulder. Though he did not apply any pressure, she felt as if he held her in place, facing the dog. His voice was intoxicating. The dog was returning her gaze. She could not look away.

"His name is Alucard," she heard the Count whisper in her ear.

"Alucard…"

"Would you like to take him home with you?"

She kept on petting the dog. They were waiting for her. At least that was how it felt. She didn't answer. There were no words to be found.

"Your father is ill, isn't he?"

She nodded.

"He can't protect you forever. There are things happening that he doesn't know about it." Everywhere. His voice was coming from everywhere. "Isn't that right?"

She nodded again, her hand tangled in the dog's fur.

"Alucard will protect you."

"He will?"

"Yes, he will. Alucard is very special. He can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. But he wants to be your friend, Integra. He will always protect you."

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

CH 2 The Contract

The first thing Walter was aware of when he woke up was that, instead of a pretty, dark-skinned woman, there was a cat licking his nose.

"Shoo, kitty," he said to it. "Go on." And it did, looking rather insulted.

The second was someone saying his name.

"Walter?"

Eyes still blurry from sleep, Walter sat down groggily as everything came back to him. The rain, Count D, the pet shop. He must have fallen asleep.

Maybe it was the tea.

The rain had stopped. A clear sky could be seen through the windows. It was time to go.

Turning, he saw Count D standing with Integra, that strangely lovely smile still on his face. Integra, too, was smiling slightly, which would have made him glad had he not seen the monstrosity sitting next to her, looking as if it could snap her in half with one mighty crunch of the jaw.

In a second, he was on his feet. "Good heavens, Integra!" he cried. "Get away from that thing!" at the same time Integra said, politely, "Walter, can I take this doggie home?"

He blanched. The beast looked at him and bared its teeth, and he could've sworn it was grinning at him.

Dog? It was a DOG? Rubbing his eyes, Walter wondered briefly whether he was to pet it or pound a silver cross into its forehead and condemn it back to hell.

"Walter?" He looked up. Integra was gazing at him hopefully, one hand on the creature's back. Dear God, it doesn't even have a leash. Though for that thing, they're probably need a double metal chain.

D was still smiling. "It seems the little lady has taken a liking to one of our residents," he said, as the dog stuck out its long, red tongue and panted.

It's trying to look cute, Walter thought. I must be going crazy but I think it's actually trying to look cute for me.

"No, Integra."

The girls' face fell. "But, Walter…"

"Your father would not approve. Especially not a dog that… big." Its grin was unnerving. And what is that? A second row of teeth?

"But I'll take care of him!"

"Don't shout please, Integra," Walter said firmly, but did not raise his voice. He had never seen the need to do so. Integra fell silent, her hand dropped from the dog's back. He gave Count D a wry smile. "Sorry you'll have to pass on this sale. But we simply don't have a place for a dog right now."

D nodded, his expression never changing. "I understand. I merely thought she might appreciate some company during the harder of time."

Walter nodded. "I appreciate the thought. Really do." He began to put on his jacket. "Thank you for the tea, and letting us stay here. But it's getting late. Come along, Integra."

She came to him, but kept longing eyes on the animal. He still had trouble accepting it as a dog.

"Feel free to come back and visit," said Count D. "Should you change your mind, you are welcome at any time."

His first thought was to turn down the offer—something about the shop made him uneasy—but at those words, Integra brightened up considerably and tugged at his hand with new hope. So, instead, he said, "we'll definitely take you up on that."

As the butler and the little lady waved their last goodbyes and disappeared into the night, the mysterious Count turned to the man beside him.

"I thought you were not going to reveal your 'human' form to her just yet?"

"I was careless," the man replied, his voice low. "She had found me much faster than I had anticipated. I was not prepared."

A slight sneer appeared on Count D's face. "Did the great nosferatu make a mistake?"

"No. It was hardly a mistake. Only a near-slip-up. I will be more careful next time. Timing is very important in this game."

"Game?"

"All that is human is a game, D."

"Maybe so," D said thoughtfully, "but the stakes are of the highest order."

"Which is why I am betting it all on her."

break-

Integra Hellsing knelt by her father's bedside, holding back tears. There was a time when it was hard to do, but when the occasion called for it so often, she had become quite good at it. In fact, at times it was even difficult to produce tears when she wanted to. And so, she spent much of her time sitting alone, staring into space, lost in thought.

"Integra…"

She raised her head as a weak, wrinkled hand ran through her long, blond hair, which fell over her shoulders all the way to her waist. "Yes, father."

A weak smile crept over the man's face slowly. "Are you happy, Integra?"

"Yes," she said, forcing a nod. "I am."

"Don't lie, Integra," came the labored reply. "But don't worry about me. You are the one who must keep on living."

She gripped his frail hand in both of hers as he stroke her cheek, his eyes barely open enough to see his daughter. He was so weak just the mere sight of him hurt her. They both knew, along with everyone else in this house, that he would not live long enough to see her become a woman, to shed her skinny legs and flat chest and become an adult.

"Promise you will be strong," he said. "Promise me."

"I will be strong, father."

"And remember…" his hand slipped away. "You'll never be alone. Even if I'm gone…"

"Please don't say that."

"Even if I'm gone, Integra," her father said as firmly as he could manage. "You uncle will care for you. He will make sure you grow up to be an honorable heir to the Hellsing title."

The girl bit her lip.

"And Walter, too. He is a loyal and capable servant. He will always be there. Have no doubt."

"That is exactly right," said a voice that made the hair on the back of her neck quiver no matter how many times she heard it.

Her uncle, a man of medium height and a too-wide, toothy smile, entered the room. He used too much gel in his hair and too little balance in his steps as he approached her, wavering slightly as if always under a state of intoxication. One large, clammy hand laid on Integra's shoulder, fingers digging into her like talons. It was not the kind of comforting touch Walter often gave her. It was the death hold of an enemy.

"Of course I will always take care of you, my dear niece," he said with oily charm, like an eel swimming in grease. "Now come along now. Your father needs rest."

Integra shook her head and the talons dug in deeper. She bit her lips. To cry out would be to give the abuser satisfaction.

"Good night, Integra," her father wheezed. "Thank you, Richard."

"Good night, father," she whispered, and stood with great reluctance, her uncle's clammy hand still on her back.

"I will take you to bed," he said.

Up the stairs to her room, neither of them said a thing as she kept her eyes down. Her uncle walked close behind her and she could almost feel his piercing glare at the back of head. He was not taking care of her as any act of kindness. No, he merely wanted to make sure she was never out of his sight.

Listening to her footsteps echo in the grand hall of the Hellsing manor, Integra suddenly felt very small.

One of the few things in this enormous house that brought her a sense of comfort was her room. As they neared it, she longed to be inside, to lock the door behind her, and climb into her warm bed with the covers pulled over her face. No one could get her from there, she often liked to believe, because it was her sanctuary.

"Integra."

She put on hand on the brass door handle.

"Integra!"

She flinched, her grip tightening on the handle as she spun around. The man she was forced to call "uncle" was staring straight at her, and for a moment she wondered whether anyone could hear if she screamed.

"It's a dangerous time," he said to her, his voice once again soft, almost gentle. "We all have to be careful. Make sure you stay in your room at night."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't let me catch you milling around the estate at night." His eyes sparked. "There are medians everywhere. We wouldn't want you to get hurt by one of them now, would we?"

Though she was certain the "we" he used did not include himself, she shook her head obediently.

The man smiled broadly. "Sleep well, dear," he said, and walked away without a glance back. Not wanting him to know the effect he had on her, Integra waited for him to be out of sight before jerking the door open, dashing inside, and locking it behind her. She wasn't afraid of medians. Though she had yet to come face to face with one, she was certain that they would be much less frightening than humans.

break-

The history of the Hellsing family extended back for hundreds of years.

Within very tight circles that extended all the way to the English Crown, they are known for their specialty in dealing with medians—vampires, ghouls, the undead. They have their own army, task forces, and more than a few specially trained soldiers, or "trash men" that often tackled the more difficult assignments.

Other organizations with similar goals, such as the Vatican Iscariot, Section XIII, have always been in slight envy of the Hellsing dominion. The stronghold of the Hellsing family has not been shaken for centuries, despite frequent attempts from all sides.

The latest leader of the organization, Sir Arthur Wingates Hellsing, was among the best in the family's lineage before his illness. He was a brilliant speaker, a tireless researcher, and a powerful leader. Though somewhat lacking in cold, hard ambition compared to his brother, his articulacy and intelligence won him the place as master of the house.

In his last few moments on Earth, Sir Hellsing leaves behind only one child, a daughter Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. At the age of twelve, she was already designated to the heavy task of upholding the Hellsing name.

Now, all alone in the darkness, she laid awake staring at the ceiling and listening to the wind whispering outside her window. Her glasses, her only companion at these hours of the night, sat quietly on a shelf against the far wall.

For the first time since her father had taken ill, Integra was thinking about something aside from the weighty responsibilities that awaited her. What filled her senses were the many strange sensations of the pet shop. Lying there, she thought she could smell the sweet incense still lingering in the air, and hear the joyful songs of the exotic birds. Never in her life had she felt more freedom than when she ran down that long hallway lined with stranger and stranger doors.

And that dog. She found herself unable to take her mind off that dog.

Count D had said it will protect her. When it watched her intently with those large, red eyes, she could not help but agree. It was as if it spoke directly to her mind. It WANTED to protect her.

I bet it could, she thought sleepily. It had lots of teeth.

As she began to drift off to sleep, she saw the figure sitting outside her window. After she closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again, it was standing by her bed.

Began she could scream it seized the covers and threw it over her head. She flailed and struggled as it held her in place with incredible strength.

Through the cloth, the smell of rank meat and sweat filled her nostrils, causing her whole body to tense up as she stopped moving.

A scraggly hand pulled the covers off her face covered her mouth. Blinking away the perspiration seeping into her eyes, Integra gaped at the hideous face above hers. It was a person, but just barely. His skin was an odd yellow color and insanity poured from glowing eyes. He grinned at her, baring a pair of needle-sharp fangs.

"Well, hello," the man, perhaps more a boy, hissed, and she could once again smell his breath. It was like death warmed over. He was wearing common street cloth, black sweatshirt and brown pants, so that under dim light, anyone who had not seen his face would mistake him for just another street punk. Judging by his looks and messy black hair, he was perhaps seventeen or eighteen.

But you can never tell for sure with medians.

One hand still covering her mouth, he ran his other hand on her front, picking apart the buttons on her pajamas.

"That dude with the greasy hair told me you're ugly," he said as she stared at him, not wanting to but could not tear her eyes away. "But I say you're pretty sweet looking," he continued as one rough hand cupped her budding breast.

Her eyes darted left and right. Her attacker smiled. "Nobody's coming, sweetheart," he whispered. "I was guaranteed not to be disturbed. Now then," he licked his lips, his tongue red as blood. "We need to take care of some business first. Wouldn't want you turning into a Draculina on me."

A chill shocked her whole body as clammy fingers walked along her stomach like a spider to the tender spot between her legs.

"I usually prefer grown women," he said as he brought his face downward to follow his hand. "But I don't mind some fresh meat every now and then."

She kneed him on the chin.

When he shifted just enough, she jerked one left up as hard as she could manage and felt it land squarely on his jaw, and heard the gargled cry he made as the hand on her mouth lifted, rushing to the aid of the wounded tongue. Taking the opportunity, Integra pulled herself out of his grasp and made a mad scramble for the hidden button on her underside of her nightstand.

The vampire froze in shock as alarm blared through the house. In a moment he was at the window again, snarling at her like an animal before disappearing.

Fists banged on the door but she did not get up to unlock it. Frozen in place, her pajamas half open, she stared out the window, where the creature had melted into the night.

With a thunderous crash the door burst open and the room was suddenly filled to the brim was voices. She was dimly aware of Walter rushing to her side, checking for wounds and buttoning up her cloth. Her uncle was there, too, along with a few of his men. The first thing they did was turn off the alarm.

"Integra?" Walter was touching her face. "Integra, what happened? Are you hurt?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Walter. Don't coddle the child. It's obvious she had a nightmare."

The butler gave her uncle a poisonous glare and continued to examine her for external injury. While he did this, Integra studied her uncle out of the corner of her eye. Instead of paying attention to his frightened niece, the man was looking at the nightstand in front of her, a mixture of anger and disappointment playing on his face.

You would think I'm ugly, she thought bitterly.

break-

There was no rest the remainder of the night for the heir of Hellsing.

Unable to bear any more of her uncle's sarcastic comments, Integra found herself insisting to Walter that nothing had happened, and covered up the drops of blood from the vampire's bleeding tongue. At last, after she was alone once again in spite of Walter's reluctance to leave at first, she crawled under the covers and made a decision.

At the first sign of daylight, she rose and dressed herself quickly, keeping one eye on the locked window as she did. It was early, but somehow she knew that it didn't matter. He had said "any time".

After wrapping herself in a warm coat, Integra opened the bedroom door cautiously and peeked out with one eye. The hallway was silent. The maid wasn't up yet. There may be some security guards milling around but usually it was at this time of day that they're starting to become sluggish from the graveyard shift. Quietly as possible, she stepped outside and let the door close with a soft "click".

Half way down the stairs, a man emerged from a far corridor. She ducked but soon realized that regardless of whether she did or not he would not have spotted her. However, feeling quite edgy after the night before, she stayed hidden behind the banister until he was out of sight. He wore black sunglasses, as her uncle's men usually did.

No one else appeared until she reached the bottom of the stairs, crossed the main hall, and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the front door.

"Going somewhere?"

She flinched.

"It's a little early for such a little girl to be up and about, isn't it?" Her shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh of relief. Walter was studying her with an air of amusement. "Where are you going, Miss Integra?"

She faced him timidly, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I'm going to the pet store."

Walter raised one eyebrow. "The pet store?"

"Count D's pet store," she murmured, still not looking at him. "I'm going to bring Alucard home."

"Who?"

"Alucard. That's his name. He was with me yesterday."

"The dog?"

Dog. That's right, he was a dog. Somehow it didn't seem fitting to call him one, so she nodded.

Her guardian sighed. "Integra…"

"Please, Walter!"

"No, Integra."

"But he'll protect me," she cried, feeling desperation welling up inside. "Count D said he'll protect me! I know he will!"

"I'd take everything that man says with a grain of salt."

"But…"

"No buts, young lady," Walter said firmly, the strange sensations of the pet shop still fresh in his mind.

They stared at each other for a full minute, piercing blue eyes against shining brown. Her hand was so tight on the brass handle that white spots were beginning to spread on her knuckles.

"You can't tell me what to do."

He frowned. "Excuse me?"

She had lowered her gaze once again, but her voice was more determined than he had ever heard since the illness of Lord Harris.

"You can't tell me what to do, Walter," she said again. He could detect no anger in her voice, nor any childish defiance. It was as if she was stating a fact, pure and simple. "I'm going to the pet store. Count D said I could come back any time. I'm going to go get Alucard."

A thick moment passed as she stood there, waiting for him to punish her, maybe even hit her for her insolence. She regretted it as soon as the last word left her mouth, until she heard him laughing.

"All ready for the family headship," he said through chuckled. "Aren't you, Integra?"

She looked at him in shock.

"Very well," he said. "But it's early. Come, I will fix some breakfast for us before we head out."

break-

Count D was waiting for them.

It struck Walter as awfully suspicious that the Count was sitting in the lounge of the shop at just after seven o'clock in the morning, impeccably dressed and primped, sipping a hot cup of tea. He wore a red gown with the imprint of a dragon this time. The details that decorated it gave the impression that the creature would come to life at any moment.

Most of the animals were sleeping in secluded corners, save for two. One was a small, furry bat-winged rabbit. At least that what was he presumed it was. Upon their arrival, it dove down at them from above, chirping happily and nestling against Integra. Over the girl's head, Walter thought he saw two small horns protrude from the animal's head.

The other was the gigantic black dog resting on the couch where he and Integra had sat just the day before. Seeing them, it raised its head and grinned.

Count D stood.

"Walter, Miss Hellsing," he said politely. "This way please. I have your contract ready."

Certain that it was a joke to amuse the frequenting children, Walter followed the man to a corner table holding a single sheet of paper. Integra made a come-hither gesture to the dog, and to Walter's amazement, it promptly left its spot of rest and trotted after them, as if already tamed and willing.

"There are only three provisions," Count D said to the pair. "One, you are to feed him fresh meat each day. Two, try to refrain from showing him off to strangers."

Looking at the dog's bloody eyes and wolfish teeth, Walter snorted. The shop smelled strongly of incense.

"And three, this is the most important one." The Chinese man was looking straight at Integra. "You are to accept all responsibility for him, guard him and guide him, as he will do for you." He held out a long black quill to her. "The bond between you and he will not be broken no matter what. He will serve you always."

Integra stared at the clear black eyes before her, as if hypnotized. Walter rolled his eyes. The dog sniffed his pant leg. Its nose was very cold. Impatient, he made a move to take the quill from D.

D pulled back. "Excuse me, Walter," he said serenely, like water on a calm lake's surface. "But the servant's bind must be secured by his _master_."

Walter rubbed his eyes. "Go on, Integra," he said to the girl, feeling like he was thinking less and less of this strange man for pushing this damned dog on them.

She did. Holding the quill and with wonderful swiftness, she wrote under the listed provisions, "_Integra W. Hellsing"._

D took the contract and smiled at her. Then, unexpectedly, he leaned down to her level and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Command him well," he breathed softly into her ear, "Sir Hellsing."

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, I am so surprised that this story was received so well. Thanks everyone . Now, some people have made mentions of the background of this story and I have realized that in writing it so fast, I forgot to work in some explanations that are probably necessary. So I'm making this note for the readers:

Alucard in this setting was not bound by the Hellsing family. Walter was the only "trash-man" of the time. Instead, sensing the upcoming conflicts, Alucard had chosen willingly to become Integra's companion, knowing her strength. He sealed himself to her with the aid of Count D's contract, intending to make her a leader in the future events of Hellsing and England. In other words, he is betting that Integra Hellsing will be the one to bring peace to the future.

Also, in this chapter Alucard shows some excess aversion to water. I'm not even sure whether it's real or he's just acting to lead Integra to where he wanted.

Other than that, enjoy and R&R!

CH 3 Know Thy Enemy.

Within a few days of it taking up its rightful place in the Hellsing household, Walter had to admit something to himself—the dog was growing on him.

Paranoid at first of such a dog turning wild at a moment's whim, he spent most of its first day within the estate following closely behind it, which displeased Integra greatly, since the dog always trotted after her, red tongue hanging from its playful grin. Upon her insistence, Walter let down his guard slightly and left the two alone.

But there was no question that the creature was strange indeed. For one thing, while he studied it, it seemed to study him. Whenever Integra was in one of her lessons or occupied with anything at all, Walter would spot the dog sitting a comfortable distance from him, head tilted slightly as if memorizing every detail on his body, scrutinizing his movements. His first instinct was to ignore it completely—damned if he was going to be made a suspicious fool by a dog. He was not that old yet. But each time he turned away from it, it would suddenly reappear a second later within his field of vision, head tilted and grinning, as if wanting him to take notice.

Its eating behavior was also odd. Following the instruction given by Count D's contract, Walter led the dog outside around noon and offered it a fresh slab of meat. As he watched through the window in the kitchen, the dog took the meat between its many teeth and bit down, but did not swallow, or even break off any pieces. Instead, a strange suckling sound came from deep within its throat. Uncertain of what he was seeing, Walter closed the shades and refused to acknowledge that fact that the dog was draining the meat of its blood.

As far as he could tell, it did not drink any water. Supposedly the fear of water indicated a mad dog, but whenever he looked at it, he knew that it was anything but mad. If anything, it was much too sane.

Later in the evening it was found rooting around the cellar, where its glowing red eyes gave the maid a most horrible fright. After the poor woman had calmed down, Lord Richard used the incident as an excuse to give the order to have it confined within a small area in the estate gardens at night. Integra protested angrily, but to no avail. As Walter chained the dog down, he found himself chuckling slightly at the memory of the maid's terrified face. Alucard grinned up at him.

All of these things were secondary. What impressed him the most was the effect that it had on Lord Richard's greasy, overdressed thugs.

They've milled about the estate ever since Lord Arthur was ordered to bed rest by the doctors, strutting high and low, eyeing the luxuries of the Hellsing home, as if it was merely a matter of time before it became theirs to squander and abuse. They whispered amongst themselves constantly, heads low, oily eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Greedy and power-hungry, they stalked the estate like coyotes. Were it not for Richard's money and connections, Walter knew, none of these disgusting lowlifes would have a thing to do with him. Even now, they would gladly stab him in the back for a better offer.

It was a very likely possibility that Walter alone kept them at bay. Knowing well his skills and history, they could not close in on him. Even though drastically outnumbered, they were no match for Hellsing's former lead "trash man", even past his prime. Still, their presence was more than mere annoyance. He was also certain that more than one of them were eyeing Integra in a way that such young girls should not be eyed. The thought of it made his blood boil and his hands ache for a good, old-fashioned massacre.

He was walking among the stacks in the library, the fourth day after Alucard's arrival. Integra was busy in one of her private tutoring sessions, so the dog amused itself by stalking him. Somehow, it always managed to sit at the end of the row he was passing. After a while, he gave up trying to shoo it away and simply ignored it.

The man strolled up to him casually from behind and lit a cheap cigarette.

"May I help you?"

He felt warm smoke been blown onto the back of his neck. "Don't think so," the thug said, "old-timer."

Walter did not turn around. "You'll excuse me if I ask you not to smoke in here," he said calmly, flipping through the pages of a book he had pulled off the shelf, "this is an honorable place for the Hellsing family."

The man chuckled. "Please," he said. "Honorable? These old things? They're almost as ancient as you are, old-timer. Tell you what," he took the cigarette from his mouth and played with it between his fingers. "I'll bet you a hundred pounds that if I stick this thing in one of the stacks and lit it on fire, nobody's even gonna notice in time to put it out."

Walter's wrist jerked, a slight movement that was barely noticeable and did not require him to turn around. The man blinked as half of his cigarette fell to the ground. Walter stamped it out with his heel without once lifting his eyes from the book.

A sneer crept across the man's face. "Ok then," he said, dropping the rest of the cigarette. "Let's do this the hard way, 'Angel of Death'."

Walter sighed and closed the book. There was always at least one. One guy amongst those who know better that thinks he could take on the old butler, come out on top, and brag about it to his pals. He could hear the sound of metal against leather as the man drew his gun and wondered whether he had to go to the trouble of getting rid of yet another body. The killing was child's play, but the cleanup afterwards was such bothersome work. He flexed his fingers.

Alucard growled.

Both men turned. Neither of them had sense the dog's approach, but here it was now, hardly two feet from them. As Walter watched, its red eyes turned to Lord Richard's servant. Black lips peeled back from its enormous teeth as it growled again.

The sound was nothing like he'd never heard before. It filled up all corners of the library and suddenly the room as thick with the demonic growl. It bounced off the shelves and the floor, causing an eerie vibration. Their shadows vanished as a shroud of darkness enveloped them.

The dog faced the thug and opened its mouth and Walter heard the dull "clunk" of the gun falling to the floor. The man was frozen in place, fear leaking from behind his dark glasses. Walter, standing to one side, could not entirely comprehend why. The other man was not looking at the dog's bloody eyes, or even the three lows of razor-sharp teeth.

Inside the dog's mouth, are those…

A thin wail escaped the man as he shoved Walter aside and ran from the library, stumbling on his way, half-crawling to the door and leaving his glasses behind. Walter watched him go, and was somewhat aware that the room suddenly became brighter. He turned back to the dog, which was once again sitting in front of him with its tongue hanging out. Whatever it was that had frightened the man so bad was no longer there. Somehow, he was certain that, in spite of the dog's already frightful appearance, something else had chased the man away.

He looked down at it. It stared up at him. "Think you're pretty smart, don't you?" he said to it.

Alucard's grin matched his own.

break-

Integra rested in her bed quietly, gazing up at the ceiling and wishing desperately that she was still outside, as she was not long ago, before her uncle's men coerced her into her room long before her bedtime.

She had laid on her back on the lawn of the Hellsing estate, her arms folded behind her head, blue eyes filled with the light of the shining stars above. The first of the evening dew soaked through her blouse and socks, but as long as the thick material of her dress kept her legs fairly dry, she chose to ignore it. Peace was a rare thing for her, and she took it whenever and wherever she could.

Alucard had rested by her side. Perhaps it was her imagination, but ever since his arrival, it seemed like he kept a certain distance from her. Not once did he pounce on her like a normal dog would its master, nor attempt to engage her in any sort of throw-and-fetch games, not that he wasn't friendly toward her; he merely acted in a way that made her think the acts of a common pet were beneath him, and at the same time, by keeping his distance, he was showing his respect for her.

As he laid there, their eyes met and she could almost feel him speaking to her in a way that she could not understand. He was urging her to talk to him.

"Do you like it here, Alucard?"

The dog's head dipped slightly, then raised again—a distinctive nod.

Shifting her head, Integra raised one hand and pointed at a lit room toward the upper levels of the mansion. "See that?" The dog looked. "That's where my father is. He's dying. They won't tell me, but I know he's dying."

Alucard rested his head on his paws and watcher her face as she spoke. She looked at him, the way one would a friend and confident.

"He wants to give me the family headship," she continued. Red eyes blinked. "I don't know if I can do it. My uncle…" She bit her lip. He nudged her elbow with his snout. "I don't know," she said, turning away from him. "I don't know."

There was a slight pause. "I'm gonna tell you a secret," she said to Alucard, whose ears lifted slightly. "I've seen a real vampire. My father always used to tell me about them, about how one day I will have to face them, and fight them. He said while they're physically weak in many ways, they are dangerous because they're powerful, and they're intelligent."

She closed her eyes and for a moment nothing in the garden moved save for her pink lips.

"In the name of God, the impure souls of the undead shall be banished into eternal damnation. Amen."

After she opened her eyes, Integra pointed to another window at the top floor. "That's my room right there. It's very dark there at night."

Then, deciding against any more elaboration on the night before Alucard's arrival, Integra turned on her side and faced her new companion. "So, enough about me," she had said conversationally. "What kind of name is 'Alucard' anyway?"

For a moment she thought he was going to answer, but that was when they appeared. In a manner bordering on forceful, they took her into the house, leaving one man behind to chain Alucard down with heavy restraints. The man did the task with most unease and reluctance, as though he had been designated it through a lost bet.

Now she, having bid her father and uncle good night, she was once again alone, trying hard not to be afraid, but it proved to be more of challenge than she first imagined. With both the door and window locked tight, the eerie quiet in the room gave the impression that the entire estate was empty save for her.

And Alucard, but he seemed so far away chained alone in the yard.

The smell of rotting meat filled her nostrils.

Instinct snapped her eyes to the window, which still stood silent and closed. Without a second thought, Integra sat up straight, one hand already reaching for the alarm button, the other turning on the light.

It didn't come on, but she could still see the familiar figure across the room, leaning against the door, eyes glowing, fangs extended. Her first realization was that the door was locked. They were locked in—just the wretched creature and herself.

She pressed the alarm button as the young "man" neared her, and was frightfully unsurprised when nothing happened. But her hand kept moving anyway, hitting the button until her fingertips began to ache.

Vampires are capable of moving without sound, her father once told her.

She didn't hear a sound except her own body falling back on the bed as the vampire dove at her. Its speed was unlike any living being she had encountered. This time it wasted no time talking and began to tear at her cloth with brute force, clamping one claw tightly over her mouth, fingers digging into her cheek hard enough to bring tears.

It licked her skin, pressing its wet tongue against her chest and stomach. She winced at the sensation and dreaded what was sure to come next.

Father, she thought desperately. Father, help me, please!

Hard fangs pressed against her neck, paused, then drew back. There was no doubt about it. Lord Richard had ordered that she must not be a virgin when bitten. Rough fingers were prying her legs apart.

No! She wanted to scream. Father, help me! Walter! ALUCARD!

Too fast it happened.

She coughed and gasped for breath and the hand that held her mouth closed suddenly disappeared. Red spots appeared before her eyes as she struggled to sit up, to be in a position, any position that was less vulnerable. When they cleared, she saw red eyes gazing at her over the edge of the bed.

There were six of them, three pairs neatly lined on top of one another. Horrible screams filled the room. Integra could see the dog's teeth, all three rows of them, buried deeply in her attacker's face. From the eyes up, it disappeared into the dog's mouth, while the rest of the body thrashed with deathly violence as blood flowed down its neck in a dark river, slowing drenching its cloth from the shoulder.

It went on screaming. Vampires do not die easy. She was barely aware of the hammering on the door, and the light pouring in beneath it from the hallway. Six eyes fixated on her, motionless, unblinking.

He was waiting for her orders.

A key was been inserted into the lock. She heard it click, and nodded.

Lord Richard, along with four of his men, entered just in time to see Alucard tear the median's head in half with a mighty wrench.

break-

Eyes ablaze, Lord Richard stormed down the hall, away from the offending room where his men were now cleaning up the mess left by the ordeal, been watched by a slightly dazed Integra. Failure angered him, and to see the timidity of his men around that blasted dog provoked him even more. It was terribly obvious that they were afraid of it, and that the child's presence was the only thing that kept the creature tame.

When they entered, it had turned around, dropping the bloody mess that was once a head at their feet. Then it grinned, as if asking for a better challenge.

Walter followed him, arguing in a way that did not help his temper in the least.

"I don't care what you say, Walter," he snapped, not slowing his pace, "that _thing _has no place in this house!"

With a swift movement, Walter stepped in front of him, cutting off his path. "Sir," he said with the same firmness, "that _thing _just saved your niece's life."

"And what makes you so certain of that?" Richard's eyes narrowed dangerously. "It was just as likely to have attacked her. Maybe we should be grateful that perv was in the room. Who knows what that damn dog might have done!"

"That's ridiculous! It obviously came to her aid. By letting it stay near her could only keep her safe. How many DOGS"--he tossed a casual glance at one of Richard's men-- "are so faithful to their master?"

Though he ached to strike out at the older man, Richard knew it was a bad idea. He was not an irrational man. To pick a fight would damage his image, not to mention his limbs and vital organs, considering the opponent.

"Walter," he said instead, as calmly as could be managed, "need I remind you of your own place in this house? Butler?"

The other blinked, a sneer appearing and disappearing just as quickly. "Need I remind _you_, sir," Walter replied, "that the master of this house is still alive?"

The two men stared each other down. The corner of Lord Richard's lip twitched slightly. It was an acknowledgement of defeat, for the moment.

"The master wishes to protect his daughter, I'm sure," Walter pressed on. "Perhaps we should run this incident by him, eh Lord Richard?"

"There is no need!" Richard snapped. "My brother has enough to worry about. I will take care of this. I will increase security. Move Integra to another room. Nothing will get through."

"Very well," Walter said, and bowed. "I will go tend to Miss Integra and move her and her... companion to another room."

"Fine." Without a look back, Richard pushed past the butler and disappeared down the dark hallway. Walter watched him go, savoring the small victory.

Both of them knew, of course, how the vampire go in. But neither knew, nor asked, how the dog had managed it.

break-

Integra gazed up at Walter as he tucked her in a second time, obviously hesitant to leave her side. She gave him a wane smile.

"Don't worry, Walter," she said. "I'll be OK." She turned her eyes to the side of her bed. "Alucard will protect me."

Walter chuckled tiredly. "Yes, he has certainly proved that tonight," he said, and made a movement to pat the dog on the head. The dog blinked at him, and he withdrew, suddenly feeling as if he should be shaking its hand instead. Or paw? "But it could have been worse. You must never let your guard down, Integra."

"You mean he could have had a gun," Integra said frankly.

"Well, I suppose," Walter stammered.

"It's alright."

"Alright?"

Integra nodded. "I'm not afraid."

With one shaky hand, Walter brushed a strand of hair out of the girl's face. How unfair it was, he saw, that she was so thin and worn from endless trials at such a young age. But he also know that she was right--she was not afraid.

"OK then," he said, standing. "Try to get some sleep. And don't let Alucard jump on your bed. He probably has fleas."

Integra giggled at this. "Oh Walter," she said, "Alucard doesn't have fleas. Besides, he wouldn't jump on my bed."

As if on cue, the dog stood. Walter watched it stroll to the window, look out, and settle just below the windowsill. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that the dog was guarding the window, and not only that, taking care to stay out of sight should anyone enter so it could have the element of surprise on its side. It was crazy, but something about its conduct triggered all of his old soldier's senses.

"What makes you so sure?"

Integra yawned. "Because it's not proper for a gentleman to sleep in a lady's bed."

break-

It was a rainy dusk once more. But this time Integra was strolling the streets confidently, without Walter at her side. Instead, Alucard trotted behind her, a grin on his face, though every now and then expressed slight indignation at the leash around his neck. It was a rare occurrence that the two could be outside alone, and as a condition Walter had insisted Alucard be kept on a leash to keep from raising alarm amongst the neighbors. No matter how hard he tried, however, it was impossible to hold the dog still long stuff to set the leash in place. After successfully tying himself into a knot several times, Walter handed the leash to Integra, who marched up to the dog, laid down a few stern words about leash laws, and secured it around his neck.

The sun seemed to have set much earlier than usual as drizzles of rain began to make themselves known. Alucard, who seemed happy at first to be out in the dimly-lit evening, suddenly became very agitated as the struck his fur. No matter how hard Integra tugged on the leash, he refused to budge from underneath the awning protruding from a nearby building.

Integra sighed. "What's the matter?" she said to her companion. "You don't like water?"

Alucard shook his head, which was a very awkward and comical thing for a dog to do.

Hands on her hips, Integra tapped her feet. "Well," she said, "we could make a run for it and be home before it really comes down. It is the rainy season, you know. This is bound to happen." She tugged on the leash again.

Alucard shook his head harder this time, and pulled back, nearly dragging Integra off her feet.

Integra released the rope. It fell to the ground with a wet "plop". "OK then," she said. "Where do you want to go?"

Seeming to consider for a moment, Alucard began to trot along the sidewalk, dragging his leash behind him. Integra couldn't help but notice as she followed that the dog was much more careful and graceful about avoiding water puddles than she was.

They stopped in front of a small shop. Integra peered inside. It appeared to be nearly empty, but no sooner than she pushed open the door did a familiar voice welcome her.

"Well, well," it said. "Miss Hellsing. How nice to see you again."

She spun around to see the bright red Chinese gown she remembered so well at a corner table.

"Count D!" Integra exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same." Count D smiled at her, as if the encounter was the most natural thing in the world.. "Or rather, what are you doing here again?"

Integra rolled the question over in her mind as her eyes made their way around the room. Of course. This was the pastry shop. The one where they had first met. Was it a coincidence? She looked down at Alucard, who grinned back.

As if reading her mind, D gestured for her to join him at the table. "It's been a while," he said. "How long? Two months?"

She nodded and smiled. The Count looked the same, not a single hair out of place. "Something like that."

"Oh! A smile," D said teasingly. "Last time we met a smile from you was quite the rarity." Integra blushed slightly. "I suppose this means Alucard is doing his job."

Alucard snuffed, as if to say, "of course."

"Oh yes," Integra said. "But it's not just that. My father is getting better."

D raised one eyebrow. "Oh?"

"The doctors say he's making progress. If he can get over the next few days, he'll definitely be on the road to recovery."

D smiled warmly. "Oh really?" As Integra prattled on happily, he cast a sideward glance at Alucard. Their eyes locked for a split second, then parted.

"You've been brave."

Integra stopped and looked at him, confused.

"You've been very brave throughout the illness of your father, Integra," D said in an oddly soothing voice. "You must realize that."

Unsure of what to make of it, Integra nodded.

"You have strength inside you, and spirit. But it is not a bottomless pool. Do you know that?"

Another nod as D leaned closer to her. She could feel his breath on her face. It smelled like sugar and lilacs. His voice was far away. She dimly recalled having this feeling before.

"There are dangers waiting for you," he told her, "and sometimes you may feel that they are too much for you to handle. Your strength may wear out, your spirit may dissipate, but when they do, it won't matter, because whatever won't kill you will only make you stronger. And trust me, there are very few things out there that could kill you."

Alucard was looking at her, listening.

"Never be afraid, Integra."

"I'm not afraid."

D kissed her face, the same way he did on the day she signed the contract that bound herself and Alucard. "Good," he said, standing. "Just one more thing."

She followed him with glossy eyes. "What's that?"

"Trust in Alucard. Always."

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

CH 4 Guardian

Integra did not clearly recall how she got home, except that the stars were out and the air was fresh and crisp. Alucard, much more energetic in the growing night, led the way. She could remember seeing Count D, and thinking how she much bring her father to his shop once he is well enough.

A cold hand intruded into her cozy daydream. She instinctively twisted her body defensively, only to be seized again by her uncle's steely grip.

"Stop wasting time!" He snapped, dragging her into the house. "Your father is dying."

The words took time to sink in, but once they did, Integra felt her a devastating weight drop into her heart. She stop and twisted her arm out of Richard's grasp.

"No!" she exclaimed. "The doctors said he was getting better!"

Anger played on her uncle's face and she could see that he was angry at been questioned. But he was controlling it, almost remarkably well.

"Integra," he said with fake fatherly patience, "the doctors said he would be well if he made it through this next hump. But it's not happening. He took a sudden turn for a worse and may not make it through the night."

The sting of the words was so severe that Integra did not further her resistance as Richard pulled her all the way to her father's room, his claws digging painfully into her arm. As she stumbled inside, she caught the doctor cast her uncle an unusual look. She thought she understood, but did not react. To think about it would only bring more pain, and it was already too late.

The room was eerily silent, and there on the bed laid her father. Aware of her presence, he turned slowly to her and reached out one skeletal hand. It was shaking heavily. The skin covering it was parchment yellow, dry and coarse. He touched her face as she fell to her knees by his side.

"Integra," he whispered. "My Integra."

She cradled his hand, fighting back angry tears at the injustice before her. Her uncle's gaze was on her back. She felt it as if a magnifying glass was been held to her back in the sun, burning a hole into her skin.

"Be strong, daughter. Once I'm gone..."

"No, father," she interrupted. "Don't..."

"Integra, listen well," her father went on. "Once I'm gone, you'll be the new head of the family."

She chewed her lip and nodded.

"You'll be in charge of the Hellsing organization. England, and the Protestant Church will be yours to protect against outside forces."

"Yes, father," she answered, holding her voice together as best as she could.

He took a deep breath, one of his last. "Integra, there are still so many things I wanted to teach you. I wanted to keep watching over and taking pride in the Hellsing blood that flows through you." The shaky hand left her cheek and went toward her uncle.

"Richard, please. I beg of you," her father gasped. "Give Integra your support for me."

Richard nodded. "Of course," he said emotionlessly, "brother."

He looked at her again. "My daughter," he said gently. "You are just as beautiful as your mother."

Less than an hour later, Sir Arthur Hellsing closed his eyes to the world. The new head of the family, Lady Integra, held his hand as it turned cold, feeling the warmth seep out through her fingers like sand. She held back her tears. She would not cry. But she longed to be held, to feel safe. That was when she realized something else.

"Where's Walter?" she asked her uncle in a trembling voice.

"On a mission," he replied chillingly. "Left a few hours ago."

Suddenly, Integra saw how many pairs of eyes surrounded her, not a single one friendly. Her uncle's men got to their feet and ushered the doctor out of the room. They surrounded her in a loose circle, like a forest of black suits and hard faces.

She cowered by her father's side, feeling very small.

break-

Her father's funeral, a formal, tedious event, was held two days later. It was publicized just enough to keep the media from poking its nose in more than necessary, and kept private enough that no details about the organization leaked out. Integra attended the proceedings with a black veil over her face, and stood for one or two newspaper photographers. She answered no questions, and considering the circumstances, no one pressed. Richard stood by her the whole time, posing like an attentive relative on camera, patronizing her with mocking kind words off the camera. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes and said nothing.

When the last of the well-wishers left, which there weren't many, Integra was led to her room by two of her uncle's men. Walter was not here, and neither was Alucard. Richard had ordered the dog to be chained and shackled down in a corner of the estate, away from both his niece and the processions.

"Get in."

She looked up. One of the men pushed her roughly and she fell forward into her room as the door slammed behind her. She leapt to her feet and grabbed the door knob with both hands just as the lock clicked close. A key turned. They had locked her inside.

For half an hour she pounded on the door, screaming and cursing with words way beyond her years, but to no avail. Finally, defeated, she crawled into bed and buried her head in the sheets.

An eternity passed before she heard any sound again. She raised her head and saw through blond locks that night had fallen, and the manor seemed alive with whispery noise. It sounded as if a large group of people were move around, but all taking care not to disturb the mock silence. Carefully, Integra moved to the door and listened for her uncle's voice.

"Shoot her."

She jerked back.

"Twenty years! I waited twenty years for his demise! Like hell I'd ever let a brat like her take the family headship from me!" A round of muffled voices. "I don't care about the body! Handle it how you see fit."

Panic seized her. Like a frantic animal Integra paced the room, looking at anything and everything. She tugged on the window, it opened, and she looked with intense disappointment at the three floors below her. Jumping was out. If she didn't die doing it, she wouldn't be good for getting very far.

The only thing left was an air vent on her wall. It wasn't large, but neither was she. She didn't know if it would open, but thankfully, the screws holding it in place had become rusty with age and gave away after a few hard pulls. She looked inside at the dusty cobwebs with dismay, but at least the space was just enough to crawl through.

Footsteps approached outside. Integra pulled her head out of the air vent and went to the window. With a quick move she grabbed the nearest jacket and threw it outside, then turned and crawled into the air vent, closing the grid behind her just as the door burst open.

She stayed in the shadows of the vent, holding her breath as her uncle and his men entered the room. As she had hoped, they went straight to the window and looked down, assuming she had jumped or crawled down or something of the sort.

"Search the perimeters!" Richard was yelling as his men checked all around the room. She watched them look under her bed, in her closer, throwing her favorite blouses carelessly about the place. Biting her lip hard, she made no sound.

A pair of feet stopped inches from her, she heard mumbled voices as a shadow fell over the grid, the only thing that separated her and certain death.

"Hey!" Came her uncle's voice. The shadow lifted. "Are you stupid? She can't fit in that! Stop wasting my time and go look outside."

Someone asked whether it was really possible that she could jump that far and survive.

Her uncle snarled. "Don't underestimate that brat," he said dangerously.

A stampede of feet left her room, slamming the door behind them. Integra waited a few seconds, then let out a relieved breath and tried to stretch her limbs, only to find it wasn't possible. The vent was just barely enough for her to maneuver in. Trying not to wonder what she had gotten herself into, Integra scooted forward a bit, then curved her back slowly, lowering herself to the floor of the vent. The metal's chill seeped through her blouse and pasted itself to her skin. She drew a sharp breath and made herself as comfortable as possible. Then, carefully, quietly, she turned onto her stomach and began to crawl into the depth of the ventilation systems.

break-

Richard was most displeased.

Twenty-four hours since his brother entered the ground and the little wart he left behind was still running around somewhere. His men searched high and low to no avail. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. After all, how could he rest with a parasite still lurking about? Surveillance showed that she had not left the estate, so she was still around somewhere. The Hellsing manor was a maze. To search every nook and cranny would take days, days that he did not have.

Buying off enough vampires to generate a disturbance large enough to draw away Walter had been difficult, especially at a crucial time such as this. The key was not to lie and claim that he would take care of Integra--Walter would not have fallen for that--but instead of act as if he would never lay a finger on her as long as his brother was alive.

Arthur was recovering. That much alone may have finally sent the butler on his way. The rest was easy.

But now there was a wrench in his plans. Walter will be back in a day or two, and should he catch wind of all this, he and his men would all be joining his brother in a minute's time. And to top it all off, his men were paranoid. Several of them continued to claim having seen the freakily large dog his niece kept. They all say it was wandering around the manor, appearing at the end of long halls, only to disappear when they tried to approach it. He had gone to the corner of the estate to check on the dog personally, and each time found it still chained tight, sleeping peacefully and completely ignoring any attempt to rouse it. The whole thing was wearing his nerves thin.

Now, as he accompanied his men in the search, one of his assistant approached him, and from the look on the man's face, he had no good news to report.

"Found her yet!" Richard snapped.

"N..no, sir!" the man stammered. "We still haven't located her."

"Well, flush her out then!" Blood was pounding at his temples. "Get to it!"

"Sir," said one of the men in his search party, "what should we do when we find her?"

Richard turned and faced the man angrily. "Haven't you been listening? Kill her! Shoot to kill, on sight! I've got no patience left!"

"What about the cops?" someone else asked. "Won't anyone notice she's gone? Especially the butler?"

"Shut up, you imbecil! Without her, Walter has no place in this house. If we can just keep her quiet, we can do anything we please! Or would you rather wait for him to come back and blow a fuse when she starts talking? Go!"

Without another moment's hesitation, the group of thugs ran down the corridor, spreading out in every which way, alert like wild hounds, but none were aware of the pair of crystal blue eyes watching them from above.

break-

Integra's body was aching. She had been inside the pipes for too many hours, torturing her joints with slow, tedious movements that kept the pipes from creaking. A whole day had passed since she ate or drank, and tension kept her from dozing off as her enemies search for her. Several times she had to keep still for an hour or more as they stood dangerously close to her. Sometimes she feared the rumbling of her hungry stomach would draw attention.

But be it luck or otherwise, she made her way down the pipes of the ventilation system to the lower levels of the manor. Actually, she wasn't sure where she was, only that she managed to move downward. Now, judging from her uncle's surroundings, Integra gathered she was on the first floor.

It hasn't even been a week since father died, she thought angrily, you're nothing more than a bloody rotten scumbag, uncle!

A few minutes passed as the sounds beneath her vanished. She waited a few moments, then tested the grid she had been laying on. It was removable, but to fall from such a height would hurt, not to mention make unwanted noise. She moved on.

Twice more she came upon her uncle's men. They were still searching for her, but from the bits and pieces of conversation she managed to gather, they were getting bored and weary, ready to give up. Good, she thought. As soon as their guard lowered, she would have a chance to escape the manor.

No, not only escape. She had to find Alucard first. If she left him, he would be killed for sure.

She shook her head hard and kept crawling with newfound determination. Her hands were becoming raw and covered with scrapes. Finally, pulling herself forward by her elbows, she finally reached a section of the pipes hidden from light.

There was a grid under her, but no light came from it. She pressed her face to it and peered down. In the dusty darkness she could dimly see shelves and racks filled with cobwebbed bottles and boxes. A corner of storage cellar, she guessed. The floor was covered with broken paper boxes. From the looks of it, they didn't contain anything sharp.

Gingerly, Integra lifted the grid and poked her head down into the room. It was definitely empty and void of company. A shelf had fallen over right in front of the door. From the looks of it, it was too heavy for her to move by herself. Sighing, she was just about to withdraw back into the pipe when a spot of light caught her eye. A small window sat half-open high on the wall, leading to ground level. It didn't look roomy, but if she could fit in the pipe, she gathered the window was no problem.

She pulled her head back, twisted her body around inside the pipe and dangled her legs outside. It hadn't seemed like such a long distance down, but having her legs in the air sure felt different. Not giving herself time to hesitate, Integra held her breath and dropped down.

The boxes softened her fall, but they were less sturdy than she had hoped. Under her weight they crumbled, sending a cloud of dust into the air. She groaned in pain as her bottom struck the hard floor. Her nose itched but she couldn't afford to sneeze. Scrambling to her feet, she made a mad dash to the far wall and began to gather crates and boxes, anything that could serve as a foothold.

Someone twisted the door handle. The shelf leaning against it moaned against the pressure. Having no time to be afraid, Integra grasped the pile of debris before her and began to climb. People were talking just outside, reaffirming each other that they had heard something.

The door burst open just as she wedged her way through the window. She dimly heard someone yell, "hey you!" and didn't turn around. She pushed herself through as a powerful hand closed around her ankle and yank her back, skinning her knee on the windowsill. She kicked back, connected with something, and felt her shoe fall off. The hand loosened slightly. She grabbed onto the grass in front of her and pulled herself outside.

The men were in a scramble inside. She heard some of them run out and one or two attempting to make it through the small window and failing. No time, she thought, no time, and began to stand just as something wet touched her hand. She gasped and look up into the blood red eyes.

"Alucard?"

The dog nuzzled her hand, then circled her once, as if checking the damage.

"How did you..." It looked at her again and grinned. She reached out and touched its fur. "Were you waiting for me?"

Alucard nodded as voices gathered behind her.

"Come on," she said, getting to her feet. "We have to leave."

break-

Richard paced the gates of the estate.

"You useless cretins!" He shouted at the cowering men. "How the hell did she get off the property!"

"One of our men tried to stop them, sir."

"And?"

"Well..." the man stepped aside, giving Richard an eyeful of what used to be one of his men. "The dog got him, sir."

"How did the dog get loose! It was chained down! How the hell could a dog break through double metal chains!"

"It didn't, sir."

Richard stopped pacing. "What?"

"It didn't break the chains, sir. We found the chains intact where they were, still locked. It must have slipped out somehow."

"Slip out? Have you seen the size of that thing!"

No one spoke.

"Where did they go?"

"We've got two men trailing them, sir. Should we follow?"

"Yes!" Richard rubbed his eyes. "And when we get to them, shoot the dog first. Pump it full of lead. Leave Integra to me."

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

ARTHOR'S NOTE: Wow thank you so much everyone for reading this story! This has such a big hit list that I was surprise because it was honestly written on a whim. I am currently thinking about taking Hellsing fanfic suggestions so if you have an idea and are too lazy to write it, I may take a stab at it. Again, I love you all and enjoy the story!

Also, please help out with the hurricane relief efforts.

CH 4 Destiny

Integra ran down the empty streets of London. The eerie quiet seemed to indicate that everyone had gotten a whiff of the stink coming from the Hellsing household and barred their doors and windows shut. She didn't care. It was better that no one stuck their nose into her business. She must have looked awful, covered in dust and wearing only one shoe. Alucard trotted alongside her, casting strange glances her way.

She had too much to think about, like what had happened when she tried to leave the estate, for example.

The man had stepped forward and tried to stop them. He was big and strong. But she wasn't afraid. He got angry when she stood her ground and tried to get a hold of her.

"Get out of my way," she had said to him calmly, and Alucard took care of the rest. To her own surprise, she watched without a thread of anxiety.

And where to go from here? Her first thought was to hide, hide somewhere until Walter came back, then everything would be alright. But where could she possibly hide? Who would take her in? A strange girl with a huge dog and a group of armed thugs after her?

Alucard tugged on the hem of her skirt, leading her on.

"Hang on," she said. "We don't know where we're going."

He pulled her again, this time more urgently. Count D's words flooded her mind.

"Alright," she said. "I'll trust you."

break-

The first thing she noticed about Count D's shop was that it suddenly looked very old. The paint on the door, brand new the last time she saw it, was already peeling and falling away. The steps looked abandoned and the curtains were tattered, as if a hundred years had passed since anyone had been here last.

It's not possible, she told herself, I was just here a few weeks ago.

Alucard was pulling on her skirt again, urging her inside. Though she doubted Count D could protect her from her uncle's guns and thugs, she had to admit this was the best place to hide for the moment.

She pushed on the door, it gave away with a tortured creak, as if the hinges had rusted over.

The shop was empty. Not a single sign of the luxury she had witness before was left. Every wall was gray and the floor was thick with dust. No exotic animals pranced to her feet. No bird sang its song. The floor board groaned as she stepped inside, as if weakening with age.

Integra felt her heart tighten. "How..."

Footsteps outside. She ran to the back of the shop, expecting to find the corridor she had once toured. The door was still there, but a tumble of brooms, mops, and buckets fell on top of her as she pulled it open. It was a closet.

The shop suddenly felt very small as heavy breaths caught in her chest. She looked at the bare walls, empty spaces, and then at Alucard.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked angrily. The dog didn't reply. Instead, he sat still, as still as he had ever been, and faced the open door, where voices were growing nearer. Integra seized one of his ears and twisted the sharp snout toward her.

"Why did you bring me here!" she cried. Alucard gave no response, or even protested at her actions. He only looked at her, red eyes glowing.

Boots clattered loudly as four men entered, guns drawn. Her uncle entered between their ranks, like a general leading his army. Integra froze.

"Well, well." Richard sneered greasily, keeping one eye on her and the other on Alucard. "You've been quite the bother, Integra.

She searched for words, and found it difficult to do while staring into the business end of four semi-automatics. Alucard stood, pushed himself into the middle of the scene, and growled.

Richard scoffed. He looked at his men. "Shoot it."

Integra screamed and covered her ears as a rain of bullets showered down on Alucard's body. She didn't need to look to see the light of fire brighten up the room like lightning. When they stopped, she opened her eyes and saw only what was left of her last friend. Her uncle laughed as she covered her mouth and choked back a sob.

"Do you see what happens to bad dogs, Integra?" he asked, mocking her. He raised his own pistol. "Now let's see what happens to bad little girls."

Tearing her eyes away from the pool of blood gathering at her feet, Integra stood straight. "Uncle," she said firmly, though a bit more softly than she would've liked. "Do you lust after the family headship that badly? Are you really willing to do this?"

He stepped toward her as she braced herself for the strike. His fist crashed against her cheek like a cold rock, sending her sprawling on the floor.

"I won't give Hellsing up to some kid like you!" he boomed, raised his gun once more and pulled the trigger.

It was like been seared by a rope of fire. A pain shriek escaped her as she clutched at her arm. Warm blood seeped through her finger onto the floor, mingling with Alucard's.

"Next go your ears," she heard her uncle say. "This is for wasting my time. Don't think you're going to go quick, Integra."

A few of the men chuckled as she kept her head down. I don't want to die, she thought desperately, I don't want to die!

The bullet didn't come. Thinking her uncle was taunting her, she didn't look up and simply kept waiting. But then something else occurred to her.

The puddle of blood in front of her was moving.

The five men were no longer paying attention to her, though her uncle's gun was still pointed at her. She watched with fascination rather than horror as the dark blood rose into the air and moved as if alive, like the shadows on the door of the room that had once held Alucard. It rose, and like a creature twisted its tendrils together. A moment later, it was solid. A man stood between her and her enemies.

"L..Lord Richard!" One of the men stammered.

"Shoot it!" Richard ordered. "I don't care what it is, just shoot it! Give Integra an escort for her trip to hell!"

The thug lifted his gun, and lost half his head.

Five pairs of eyes watched as the man formed from Alucard's blood held the top half of the thug's head in his hand, and dangled it over his mouth. A long, red tongue extended to catch the blood falling from it. It slurped the way a dog's tongue would lap up water. When blood would fall no more, he dropped the head on the floor. It landed right by Integra's feet, eyes still open.

Terror overcame the group and every man was suddenly scrambling for themselves. They all moved to shoot, or run, but a second later the room was drenched in their blood. Integra had had no time to react before finding herself alone with only her uncle and the newcomer.

Richard was trembling, making incoherent sounds as he raised his gun. The man, or rather the creature, made a move so quick that Integra could not comprehend it. She watched as the shells of her uncle's gun fell from the thing's hand.

"Lowlife," she heard it whisper.

Then it cut off her uncle's hand. She didn't know how, but in a split second, her uncle was screaming and twisting on the ground, cradling the hand that was now no more than a bloody stump. His fingers lay twitching beside him.

Seeming satisfied, the man-shaped thing finally turned to her. She studied it. No, him, she corrected herself. He was strange, but something about him was definitely human. He was tall and thin, easily six and half feet. His limbs were long and slender, and very agile judging by the show he had just put on. Long, silver hair fell from his head, reaching his waist. He wore a long coat, red as his eyes.

He smiled at her, revealing long fangs. Not just the traditional canines of most vampires. She saw that had a mouthful of them. Just like Alucard.

Is this Alucard?

He approached her, stopped just a foot short, and dropped to his knees. He was bowing to her, with the kind of respect she had never even fathomed before. As he lifted his face to her, she could see that features were sharp, chiseled with age, which was strange because he look as if he couldn't have been more than thirty-five.

"Have you sustained any injuries," he asked in a deep, smooth voice, "Sir Hellsing?"

She stared at him.

Seeing her shock, he grinned with amusement. "What is your bidding, my master?"

Integra couldn't move. This thing, this creature before her, was a median. Not only that, the most powerful one she had ever seen, heard of, or read about. No vampire in her lessons possessed such power. No creature could regenerate from a pool of blood like he did.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her uncle crawl toward the nearest gun and wrap his good hand around it.

"H-Helling..." he muttered as he rose to his feet, "is mine..." He spun around and fired. "It's mine!"

The vampire raised his arm. The bullet embedded itself in his flesh. If he felt any pain at all, he gave no sign as he half-turned, a disgusted look in his eyes.

"Your blood stinks," he said to Richard, "It reeks to high heaven. You're unfit to be this family's head."

Her uncle didn't move. His face was blank as the gun fell from his hand. Integra felt cold metal against her hand. The vampire had handed her a gun. Without another word, she raised it, and using his arm as a level, point it at her uncle.

Richard didn't move.

"I saw you," she said, and pulled the trigger, "that day in the pet shop."

"That is correct," answered Alucard, "my master."

She pulled the trigger again.

break-

"And that, my dear detective," said Count D, sipping on his usual afternoon tea, "is the story of the little girl and her servant."

Leon Orcott snorted and helped himself to more snacks. "Oh please," he said around a mouthful of cake, "like I'm gonna believe that. You sold a vampire to some British royal family? Come on!"

"I sold nothing," D replied serenely. "I was merely helping destiny."

"Whatever." Orcott swallowed. "Besides, everybody knows the Hellsing family's just an urban legend. You need to get your facts straight before making up stor... ow!" He reached down and swatted at the Totesu latched onto his leg. "What's your problem! I wasn't even bothering you!"

A small hand laid on D's arm. Turning away from Orcott's struggle, D smiled at Chris. The boy smiled back and held up a package.

"Did this come for me?"

Chris nodded.

"Whoa there!" Orcott leapt to his feet and snatched the package out of his brother's hand. "I bet that's something illegal!" He proceeded to tear the box open and remove the contents. "I got you now, D... hey, what the hell is this?"

Sighing, Count D took the box from his hand. "If you don't mind, detective," he said. "It's English tea from a friend."

Orcott sunk back down into the sofa. "Boring as usual," he mumbled. "Wait, what's this?" Reaching down, he picked up a piece of paper that had fallen out of the box. It was a photograph of a blue-eyed young woman in what appeared to be a man's pant suit. She looked about twenty-two or three and had a head of creamy blond hair and glossy lips the shade of strawberry cream. Shrew intelligence shun from behind round glasses. She had an air of impenetrable dignity and power. Orcott whistled.

"Boy," he said, "she'd be quite a hottie if she smiled and glammed up a little. Who's this? Your little tart on the side?"

Count D slapped the detective upside the head and took the picture from him. "Show a little respect, please," he said. "This happens to be a friend."

Orcott rubbed his head. "What's that stuff on the back?"

D turned the photo over. "It's Romanian," he said, and began to read.

_Just you wait, D_, it said. _When mankind's reign comes to an end, be it by the hand of your kind or mine, or their own, she will be the last one standing._

THE END… or rather, the BEGINNING


End file.
